post-lightning

Here I am again, so retarded for this keyboard. I will type until you pry this machine away from my cold, dead hands. Sure you say Macs are shit, but nobody makes keyboards that are just sex. Nobody. Sure you can buy some expensive, huge-ass keyboard for either some hacker or gamer hipster shit. But it won’t be as conveniently connected to the laptop you’re using as this. I think you can buy a usb keyboard that will work with your iPad. I think James uses one. God I am so envious now. Motherfucker I want one. I want one god dammit. Let’s shut up now, just type motherfucker type. My name is Michael and I am an addict. The fuck do you care. You shouldn’t give a shit. I’m just typing. Typing never harmed any motherfucker. So what if I type. Oh god, oh god. It’s coming. You know what’s coming. It’s coming. You know what it is. FUCK. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy fucking dog who won’t fucking stop barking, won’t stop yelping, won’t stop typing how this motherfucking fox keeps jumps over his typing ass. Won’t leave him alone. Dog just wants to type. Lazy ass dog with a fucking Mac. Fuck.